The Affair
by DeeeeliaDeeeetz
Summary: Some dark Moira thoughts in the middle of the night. post ep for The Affair (3x09).


**A/N:** So I had only been watching Schitt's Creek for about a month and had become utterly addicted when I started this fic earlier this year. I started writing this right after The Affair aired because it just screamed out to my brain for more. Also, since we've been given very vague back story with regards to Moira I created a bit of my own and was _very_ liberal with her show's run etc for the sake of my story. This was going to be a cute little half-page one-shot but it started writing itself and turned into something else. I got inspired recently to revisit this fic and tried to finish it. I had unfinished sentences and no idea where I was going with a few ideas so it's a bit rough but it's done and I never finish fic. Ever.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Mr and Mr Levy own everything with CBC. Just going about my business, contributing to the most delightful fandom for which there is essentially NO fic. Seriously. Why is there NO fic in this glorious fandom?

 **Date:** started March 12th, 2017 / finished September 27th 2017

 **Spoilers:** post ep for The Affair (3x09)

Johnny closed the door to Roland and his 6-pack, resisting the urge to bang his head on the old wood. Wasting energy on Roland, whose sole purpose seemed to be riling John up just wore him out. Though it was barely 11pm he was certain as soon as he hit the bed he could sleep for 20 hours straight. Locking the door, he turned and found Moira standing in the middle of the room, fresh from her fifth? sixth? shower that day. He couldn't blame her really. He hadn't even been there but just the thought of Roland _naked_ Roland anywhere near Moira made him want to bathe his own body in acid.

"Steak, hey?" She asked, towel drying the ends of her short, naturally blonde bob, trying very hard to suppress a smile. It wasn't often she got to witness _territorial_ Johnny but Roland seemed to spark something off in him. Even though this time his shit stirring was all completely her fault. Johnny shrugged his shoulders, nonchalant and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth but not before Moira threw her towel at him.

~/~

The kids had had their fun and been sent back to their room. Moira tried to get comfortable with her beloved ostrich pillow, willing herself to a faraway dreamland where the events of the previous night were a long, forgotten memory. She was still disgusted with herself. She didn't much care what the kids thought, or what anyone thought of her for that matter. Most people, even her kids only really knew her as Moira Rose, (Drama) Queen of Daytime. Praise, awards and recognition over the years for her work had always brought her tremendous satisfaction; and happiness, she thought. But before all that, before she was a big-name soap star and even long after, when she'd faded off the screens as Sunrise Bay ended its 30 year run, Johnny's opinion and support were all that had ever really mattered. He was always in her corner and her biggest fan, by her side on every red carpet and at every gala, holding her nervous hands on opening nights, press nights, at industry dinners or waiting backstage for a quiet moment to offer her a congratulatory hug and kiss … or on a handful of occasions, consoling ones.

He was her light on the darkest of days and there had been _many_ of those over the years. That time she'd tried to run him over in her day-old Lexus SUV, when she tried to take off his head with one of his golf clubs, the three times he'd taken her to rehab, when she lost Alexis at the mall when she was 7, that time they had gone skiing in Switzerland and "Juliet" her first and most prized custom red wig in its own carry-on disappeared between security and their boarding gate coming home, and then there were those months … a year maybe … she pretty much checked out of life.

She had done very well over the last 30-odd years to block out most of her bad memories (and unfortunately had lost a few good ones too) but sometimes they crept back through the rising haze of her meds. And lately, she had not been taking many at all, mostly to preserve the stash she had left but also, having a new purpose with her town council position had been serving her very well and had been a great distraction from their situation.

David was not yet 2 when Moira found out she was pregnant again. She and Johnny had long ago discussed having two children and both had wanted two boys; two heirs to carry on the family name. So they were thrilled to know their little family would soon be complete. Both were starting off very successful careers, but back then they were much more present as parents and were home often together with baby David. The timing, however, could not have been worse. Moira had been on the show for only a year but had quickly become one of, if not the most popular character on the show. Whilst she'd always been a significant player from very early on, she'd never really had her own story and the fans had been very vocal in having this remedied. Consequently, Vivian Blake was scattered throughout the beginnings of a major storyline arc which would set up events for May sweeps. A major storyline, however, meant long hours and Moira would often be gone 15-16 hours a day during the week and sometimes a weekend here and there. Johnny was gone too, days at a time, different cities every week, in meetings, scouring locations for new stores across the country. Carrying a storyline by herself for the first time, the extra attention, interviews, being at work all day, coming home to an empty house in the early hours of the morning, being alone with the baby, going back to work at 7am, she had no idea what day it was or where John was. She was disappointed she had no idea what was going on with the company and that she couldn't be out there supporting him. Even if it was only going out to dinner so he didn't have to eat alone or spending the night at whatever hotel he was at so _she_ didn't have to sleep alone. She always slept better when he was around. With all this going on Moira started unraveling. She couldn't sleep, couldn't eat - morning sickness or not - had trouble remembering her lines, she was sure she was going crazy.

She had her first panic attack one afternoon during a dress rehearsal, freaking everyone out by passing out cold in Vivian's living room. Everyone on set had been amazingly sweet and worried about her which made her feel even worse if that were possible. She had never been anything but completely prepared and professional at work. Everyone adored her…before she became a crazy all out daytime diva. They didn't know yet that she was pregnant either but Moira certainly would never have used that as an excuse. Thankfully, Johnny had been working local from his office and was able to come by the studio to pick her up after they'd wrapped for the day. He'd organized that David would be with the nanny all night and had ordered Moira straight to bed when they got home. She hadn't even tried objecting she was so tired and felt like shit. Changing into her favorite long-sleeved light blue shirt _she never wore pajamas, didn't own any, only John's shirts_ Moira came out of the bathroom into their dimly lit bedroom to find Johnny already on his side of the bed, her covers pulled down waiting. She crawled in beside him, under the cosy nook of his outstretched arm. Resting her head on his shoulder, she let out a long, deep sigh. For the first time all week she felt like she could finally breathe so she closed her eyes and concentrated on each intake and outtake of breath.

The weeks and months that followed that night, Moira doesn't have very clear memories of. Bits and pieces here and there melded with what Johnny and a few others must have told her at some point. She remembers heading off to work one morning and then waking up in the hospital. Apparently, she'd blacked out and crashed her car on the freeway. She'd been going so fast and the damage to her car was so severe paramedics had arrived expecting to retrieve a dead body. Surprisingly though her injuries were modest. She doesn't remember them nor pain; her broken leg, a few broken ribs, the internal abdominal bleeding, the trauma to her head that left her unconscious at the time and later with a lifetime of random migraines she'd never endured before. She remembers momentarily panicking when she woke up, asking where David was and if he was okay, assuming he had been in the car with her. Johnny had assured her he hadn't been and was safe at home. And she remembers vividly his face and the grip of his hand on hers when he told her their unborn son hadn't survived the impact. She had never wanted to die before but she did in that moment. Her perfect little world was crumbling to shit. They had to sedate her after she got hysterical and tried to get out of the bed. To go where and do what, she doesn't want to remember. But she does.

~/~

Moira suddenly felt very hot and claustrophobic. She pulled off her head pillow so fast it went flying across the room, just missing a number of jars and bottles on her dresser. Flustered, she propped herself against the bed head with her regular pillow and tried to remember how to breathe. Johnny was too good for her. No-one else would have stuck around for as long as he had with all the bullshit that surrounded her. She knew she was lucky and probably had never done enough to deserve him. But there he was, after all these years, still in bed at night beside her. She'd never been interested in another man since they'd been together and had certainly never touched one, never mind sleeping beside a totally naked one. She had though, had plenty of propositions and admirers over the years including Matt Walker, her co-star and primary love interest on the show for 20 years. When they'd first started working together he had made absolutely no secret of his interest in her and had not been in the least bit bothered by her marriage. She had been flattered, of course but rejected him time and again until she had to make it perfectly clear that she wasn't just playing silly mind games with him and that unlike almost everyone she knew in the business she wasn't someone's wife _and_ girlfriend nor did she want a husband _and_ boyfriend. Whilst their characters had been married and divorced from each other more times than Moira could remember, Matt ended up marrying a lovely writer from another show and their two families had been very close friends for years.

"John?" she suddenly whispered shakily into the darkness, still trying to regulate her breathing. She doubted he was fully asleep yet especially after all her tossing and turning and flapping about.

Tired as he was, he too had been lost in deep thought, silently contemplating throwing beer cans at a Roland-esque effigy in his mind's eye. He had yet to fall asleep. Truthfully, he had become immune to Moira's restlessness and everything in general; he could sleep through pretty much anything. He rolled over lightly onto his right side to face her. She was sitting up against the head board and even in the dark he could see her hair was all mussed up.

Moira closed her eyes and let out a pensive sigh before looking down at him.

"I love you, John. Only you." She asserted, serious and emphatically.

"I've never doubted that for a minute, my dear."

He reached over and grabbed hold of her hand, resting atop the covers between them.

"Besides, who else would tolerate living in a room full of your wigs?

She couldn't argue with that.

~/~


End file.
